Jennie Ensor - The Girl in His Eyes

David ? Oh, yes, the man from the party.

‘I don’t mind if you ask him,’ she said. She didn’t care one way or another.

Suzanne pulled a layer of tough outer skin from the onion that was set out on the worktop. Taking a knife from the rack, she began to slice it.

Katherine put her drink down beside the chopping board and stood there, rubbing her cheek thoughtfully.

‘Did Jane say why she’s not going to the police?’

This couldn’t be happening. If she closed her eyes, and concentrated really hard, maybe it would all go away.

‘For Emma’s sake,’ she replied. ‘Jane doesn’t want her to have to go through a trial, all those questions. It would be too much of an ordeal.’

‘I don’t like to say this when you’re so upset,’ Katherine said, without hesitation, ‘but what about the next time he molests someone? They say that men who do these things often can’t stop. It’s like an addiction.’

Suzanne drew a sharp breath. She concentrated on chopping the onion as finely as possible. Next time, Katherine had said, as if it were a foregone conclusion that there would be a next time. Paul wouldn’t do anything like this again, would he? Surely, now his depravity had been discovered, he’d have to stop.

Then she was afraid. What if the police investigated and Paul were put on trial? What if he were sent to prison? He would never survive that.

‘Sorry, Suzy, but I have strong feelings about what Paul’s done. I think he’s dead lucky Jane hasn’t gone over there and walloped him. If it were my daughter, I’d be over there with a fucking carving knife, anything I could find. He deserves everything that’s coming to him, in my opinion.’

A shrill ring interrupted them from the other side of the kitchen. Katherine picked up the phone on its third ring. ‘It’s your husband,’ she said curtly, scowling. ‘Will you take it?’

‘No, tell him I can’t talk to him.’ It was the third time he’d rung that day.

Katherine frowned. ‘He says he has to talk to you.’

‘I don’t want to talk to him.’

Katherine turned away from her for a few moments, then put the phone back into its base. ‘He says he hopes you’re OK and he wants you to come home,’ she said, in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘And to call him as soon as you can. ’

Suzanne sliced a courgette in half and scored deep crevices into its moist flesh. It was Paul’s flesh, or her own, she didn’t know which. She picked up the salt shaker and ground in the white crystals with the flat of the blade.

The front doorbell rang. Katherine wiped her hands on her apron and left the kitchen, pulling the door behind her. Suzanne strained to hear the voices from the hall; she could make out David’s bass voice below Katherine’s. Then the door opened and David stepped hesitantly into the kitchen, each hand grasping a plastic bag bulging with green shoots.

‘Hello, Suzanne. It’s good to see you again.’

In a suit, David looked quite different from the man she’d met at the party, but his eyes were the same gentle blue. He bent down and put the bags on the mat against the back door.

‘If this is a bad time… I don’t want to intrude. I only came to drop these off.’

‘It’s alright. You’re not intruding.’

He looked at her for a few moments. ‘Kate’s told me you’re going through a rough time at the moment.’

She nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

Katherine came in, holding a bottle of wine. ‘Have a drink, won’t you, David? And won’t you stay for dinner? It’ll be just the three of us, Jeremy won’t be back till late.’

‘I was going to have dinner at the hotel, but you could twist my arm. I’d much rather have dinner with you two ladies.’

‘My mushroom risotto isn’t bad,’ Katherine said, giving the frying pan on the hob a quick stir. ‘If I do say so myself.’

‘Yes,’ Suzanne added. ‘You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you? I’m not up to much conversation, I’m afraid, but Kat needs a respite from all my doom and gloom.’

David took off his jacket. He would have to leave shortly after dinner, he said.

Suzanne went upstairs. She was sleeping in Debbie’s old bedroom, which was decorated in a sugary pink. A glass tray on the dressing table contained a hotchpotch of girlie things: hair accessories, body paint, and oddly coloured lipsticks. The noticeboard on the wall was covered in photographs. Debbie as a little girl holding a kitten, grinning toothily. Debbie in her black graduation gown, shaking hands as she collected her certificate. Debbie in a long dress, grinning from ear to ear, a young man at her side.

A lump came to her throat. If only Laura’s life was as happy as Debbie’s.

She took off her cardigan, put on a blouse, and retouched her lipstick.

Downstairs, the table was set for dinner. A vase of vivid red and yellow tulips stood in the centre. At each end, white dinner candles flickered. Suzanne sat at the place that had been laid for her, opposite David.

Katherine poured the wine. ‘Tuck in, guys. No need to be polite.’

David enthused about his latest project: converting his shed into an art studio. Suzanne pecked at her food. She wasn’t in the mood for talking.

‘What are the women like, at your firm?’ Katherine asked David, during a lull in the conversation, with a teasing smile. ‘Any talent there?’

‘I told you, Kate, I’m steering clear of women at the moment.’

‘I thought you said your divorce didn’t leave you bitter and twisted,’ Katherine continued playfully.

Suzanne put down her fork. Divorce. The word was so bleak, so final. If she left Paul, what would happen to her? Would she end up skittering between dating websites and meet-up groups like some of her divorced friends? How would she cope with the loneliness? How would she begin to rebuild her life?

She stared at the tulips. They were glorious. Yet within a week they’d be wilting, ready to be thrown away.

‘I don’t know how I’ll live without Paul,’ she said.

Katherine blinked at her, mouth open.

David spoke softly, as if to himself.

‘You think it’s the end of the world, when your marriage ends, but it’s not. It’s a new start, another chance to be happy.’

He didn’t know how she felt. He couldn’t possibly.

David’s eyes met hers. They seemed to contain the strength that she lacked, the assurance that she didn’t have. ‘You’re going to leave him, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, without hesitation. ‘I’m going to leave him.’

No one spoke; it shocked her too, but she would manage. Somehow.

‘Good on you, love,’ Katherine said.

Suzanne searched her pockets for a tissue. ‘I’m sorry about this.’

Katherine dabbed at her own eyes with a finger. ‘I’ll get the Kleenex.’

David stood, his arms open. ‘How about a hug?’

Although she hardly knew him, she didn’t hesitate. This was right. His arms enclosed her with a light pressure. She felt his heart beating and his warmth, and wished this simple touch could go on forever.

Asluggish light slipped through the curtains. Laura raised her head from the pillow. A bee in her ear? No, someone was at the door. She turned over, hoping whoever it was would go away. Her dream caught mid-frame, trapped in her head.

A younger version of herself, holding Emma’s hand, walking towards the front door of her childhood home. The front door is on the latch. No one seems to be in, it is so quiet. They go upstairs. We can play in my room , she’s thinking, out of everyone’s way . She pushes open her bedroom door.